Blood Born

by Catherine Wolffe

  She stilled. “I…appreciate that.” Reaching out, she traced the angle of his cheekbone again. “Make love to me, Dorran.”

  Dorran wheezed out a breath. He was quiet for a while. “You need to forget you ever met me.

  “Don’t say that. I don’t want to ever forget you. Besides, I don’t think that’s possible.” The corner of her mouth curved a little. Since he didn’t move, she came back to stand directly in front of him. His eyes meeting her belly. With both hands behind his head, she drew him in like she wanted to draw his erection inside her.

  He flicked his tongue along the line of his lips.

  With a slow motion, she started unbuttoning her blouse. Dorran’s eyes were on her. When his hand came up to tug her shirt from her jeans, she eased down on one knee and knelt beside him on the cot. Whatever happened later, this was their time. This was all about them.

  His lips were on hers in a soft as petals kiss. “Meagan…”

  “No more talking. I want you now.”

  “There’s no denying I want you too.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? I think I remember you telling me not to plan tomorrow while we still had time left today.”

  By the gods, there was that wicked grin. Maybe it was the fact they were facing life-threatening danger that drove her. Meagan wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into her, tasting, mesmerized by his talented mouth as he started to seek her out. Gone was the hesitancy. Meagan eased away from thoughts of what if. This was now, and this was Dorran.

  He lifted her to the middle of the bed and unzipped her jeans. Tugging them down, he slipped off her shoes and laid the jeans on the table. Good idea. Always a chance they may be interrupted. Then his hands came back traveling along her ribs to cup her breasts and around to unhook her bra. She arched up and pulled both over her head. Their breaths mingled as she reached for his mouth. Dorran kissed her, gently at first before he exerted more force, delving deeper. With one last sweep of his tongue, he was gone, his heated breath scorching a path down her neck and locating a rosy peak to suck. The pain of the bite warmed her between her legs. Shifting, he tasted the other and massaged it adding to the need growing within her.

  She began to move in response to the demand of his attentions. Her hips thrusting in tiny bursts of want. He had yet to remove his clothes, and suddenly Meagan realized she couldn’t wait. She yanked at the buttons of his shirt, sending them flying. Dorran eased back and unzipped his jeans. Pushing them off his hips exposed his erection. Her mouth watered. Curiosity got the better of her. She had to feel him in her hands. His arousal jerked in her fingers. Ready for him she started to guide him, but Dorran shifted, to lay beside her on the narrow confines of the bed. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. His eyes heated to molten orbs, his hands warming her skin where they connected. Lowering his head, his breath teased her flesh in a torturous path to the apex between her legs. She watched him as he moved in without waiting. The heat of his mouth centered over her sent delicious warmth through the thin cotton of her panties. She threw up her fist to cover the scream in her throat.

  Dorran’s growl of pleasure vibrated against her skin. One slim finger traced the edge of her panties between her thighs. She bucked. Suddenly there was a tearing of cloth, and her panties were no more. His hands held her, fingers digging into her thighs. Warmth bloomed from her core to her back and then her whole body as his tongue found her slick and wet.

  Time fell away, and the world grew small as he pleasured her. Nothing mattered but his talented tongue taking his sweet time sucking and tasting. The torment intensified when he replaced his tongue with his lips as his eyes watched her climb. There was no getting away from the sweet torture for he reached up and found her nipple again, twisting and rubbing as she writhed under him. Her breath coming fast and hard, Meagan was almost there, and Dorran slipped back.

  “I want you to come for me,” he said.

  With that, he was sucking and penetrating her – the last straw before she did come. Her release stiffened her spin as she arched off the bed in a whirlwind of stars and exquisite pain. Her sex throbbed and clenched around his groan. The craving hadn’t subsided before he took one, perhaps two of his fingers, sliding inside her, expanding her muscles before releasing them, massaging until she cried out again, sliding right over the edge once more. She reared up to grab hold of his arms, anchoring herself for the ride.

  He didn’t stop as he blasted her senses with yet another memory she would never forget. The man was wild and relentless, and she had no way of forgetting or getting over him, she feared.

  Not in this lifetime had Dorran ever imagined this. Meagan lay splayed before him in all her glory. From the tightly cropped patch of dark hair at her core to the taught muscles of her belly jerking in time with her arousal. Then there were her breasts, those enticing mounds he couldn’t leave alone. He could feel and see her heart beating in her chest. Her hips moved of their own accord, calling to him, as did the taste of her.

  Time wasn’t their friend. Not in an office inhabited by vampires. He had to give her this because he knew this would be the only time he would have the chance.

  She was swollen and just there for him. Gripping his erection, he spit on his head, slicking himself before bringing them together.

  The solider in him wanted to talk dirty to her. The gentleman in him wanted to capture every image of her undone beneath him. Moving, he couldn’t keep from whispering, “You are something special. I want to stay right here forever.” The rhythm intensified as his time drew near. Not something he could control successfully. Thrust after silky thrust and she met him with her muscles clenching around him. She groaned out his name as she came holding onto his forearms as she jerked. He pinned her in place with his hands on either side of her hips as the last bit of his control vanished. He filled her as his eyes watched her come back to him.

  Dorran eased down beside her and covered them with the sheet that bunched at their feet. The chilled air reminded him of loss, and he didn’t enjoy the idea. The idea of staying as they had been pleased him so much more.

  He kissed her. As he did, the way her lips accepted his and moved with his told him if there had been any way, in another world or another time, they could have begun a life together.

  “Do me a favor,” Meagan said.

  “Name it.”

  “When this is over, come back to me.”

  Struck dumb, Dorran nodded. He knew reality to be a fickle bitch. A weak smile creased his lips as he shifted gears. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you clean up.” Rolling of the bed, he shoved into his jeans. “I’ll be right back.”

  Slipping out the door, he slowed dropping his head. He knew the odds of his getting a second chance – zero. The facts remained the same. He couldn’t have a future with someone like Meagan. End of story. There were too many dead men in his past. The only thing he could do was leave her better than he found her with something positive to remember him by.

  Chapter 21

  Pilot walked through the solid wall of Dorran’s room without knocking.

  “Would you stop doing that!” Dorran shot the demand over his shoulder when he saw who it was. He tugged on the t-shirt and stuffed it inside his jeans. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “My apologies, Mr. O’Hare. Your carriage awaits.” One brow cocked, Pilot swept his hand toward the door. “The Company is in place. Meagan has the necessary spells you’ll need. As a precaution, we’ve bugged the shelter. Duke is keeping a close eye on everything going on there.” He raised his head past level and looked down his nose at Dorran. “Will you be needing anything else, sir?”

  “You know your English accent sucks, right?” The shadow walker merely folded his boney hands in front of his formal attire. “To be sure, sir. For the record, your name is hogwash.”

  Now, Dorran’s brows winged up. The guy had game. “My man.” Striding past Pilot, he grinned. “For the record, I owe you for this.”

 
; “Yes, sir. You do.”

  He was feeling lucky this morning. Why? Because he had made love to the woman of his dreams. With Pilot behind him, he said a quiet thank you for no interruptions.

  In the evening dusk, Dorran scanned Main street. Only three or four vehicles remained downtown. “I want the Company to stay well back, understood. This thing has got to go down as nothing more than a break-in. If the Sultan smells anything fishy, we’re in trouble. Understood.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Glancing sideways, Dorran eyeballed his partner in crime. “You up for this, Casper?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Meagan waited beside his Harley. “Hey, you.”

  He cut her a foolish grin. “The idea of you riding with me makes me want to go back inside and tear your clothes off all over again.”

  “Um, sounds like a plan.” She leaned in brushing his lips with hers. “But first, we have a job to do.”

  “Slave driver.”

  Watching her laugh at his taunt, Dorran ignored the niggling apprehension doing a tap dance in his gut. They’d been training for the last three days. Dorran was shocked at how fast the skills came to Meagan. It was as if the world opened up and she embraced every detail of the talents she’d inherited from her parents. Who knew?”

  The shelter was dark. The only lights on were the security flood lights around the perimeter. No high-tech motion sensors here, he mused. The parish was like most – too poor to afford much more than the bare minimum. Besides, the dogs were their own alarm system.

  Idling his bike, he twisted in the seat. Shadow Company had parked her truck in the trees behind the shelter where Dorran had suggested. With one more kiss good bye, Meagan slid off and headed for her ride. The plan was simple, really. They were going in with a ram ‘em and lift ‘em method. They would use her truck, which thanks to Gus, was now sporting a good old-fashioned battering ram to break the cinderblock wall and take the files, computers and any other viable evidence necessary to build a case against the Sultan.

  With a spell of protection around them, Meagan fired up the truck. Gone was the apprehension, the hesitancy and the reluctance to attempt the impossible. His girl was ready, as ready as she would ever be to take on the evil one. Reeving the motor, she threw the truck in drive and peeled out in the dirt.

  Watching, Dorran wondered how he could ever live without her. Because, surely, he had to, even though the council had no reason to eliminate him now. He’d completed the mission – great – it still didn’t make up for him being the reason seven good men died. The fact he was a murderer weighed heavy on his undead conscious. No two ways about it, living without her was going to be far worse than dying.

  A resounding thud erupted as the truck barreled into the wall. A few pieces of concrete flew through the air. The ancient structure was no match for the iron battering ram. As the dust settled, Dorran went to work. With the pickaxe, he carved a nice hole in the wall of the office. Meagan met him as he finished. “Here, take this. I’ll get what I can and hand it to you.”

  Together they loaded most of the dog files and financial records into the floorboard of the truck. In a sweeping move, Dorran scooped up the small safe, hefting it atop his shoulders. “I want you to take this back to the house as soon as I’m through. Got it?”

  Meagan nodded.

  Signaling her to wrap it up, he dusted off his jeans and exited the now demolished front office. Mission successful. “Okay, get out of here. I’ll finish up. See you back at the Latimars.”

  Waving, Meagan got behind the wheel and headed out.

  ***

  Where had all the fog come from? Meagan squinted into the darkness. Even with her lights on low, she had a tough time seeing the road much less picking up any speed. “Geez, the weather.”

  She rubbed at the chill settling in her bones. Suddenly, out of nowhere a vehicle appeared and bore down on her. Meagan screamed. The truck plowed into the passenger side of her ancient Ford. Then she was skidding sideways in slow motion. Glass floated around her as the eerie screech of rubber on asphalt echoed in her ears. Meagan’s vision blurred. Clearing for a few seconds, she saw someone get out of the truck. The sight in her right eye shrank to a pinhole. Something warm slid down her forehead. Gingerly, she touched the wet spot. Pain shot through her, and she winced. Too much, it was all too much. Sounds dissipated into the night air as darkness enveloped her. The gentle, slow sway of water lapping the side of a boat marched through her head. Meagan drifted on a lazy river, not caring where she went.

  ***

  The clanging of metal against metal woke Meagan. She rubbed her arms, realizing how sore they were. Her back hurt as did her head. Giving her scalp a closer examination, she discovered a large lump. That would explain the loss of time. She’d blacked out. To wonder where she was proved an act in futility. All she remembered was leaving the shelter headed to Aubrie’s – then nothing. No, wait a minute, that wasn’t entirely true. She squinted her eyes closed, hoping to shake loose the cob webs still clinging to her memory. She’d been T-boned by another truck. Filmy snippets flashed and vanished in her brain. Arms full of tats reaching for her. The smell of whiskey and sweat surrounding her.

  Soft whimpers stirred her consciousness. A soulful moan, a gut-wrenching sob followed by a shrill scream managed to rouse her from the fog.

  Shoving at her hair, Meagan blinked into the darkness. “Hello? Who’s there?”

  Crying was the only answer which came back to her.

  Her clothes hung in damp folds over her chilled body. Struggling to stand, she tested her legs. They were okay, but the room swam precariously. Maybe she had been drugged. Carefully glancing around, she noted the space seemed large but cloaked in shadows. Small bunks lined the walls of the narrow, yet long room – a warehouse maybe. The odor of urine permeated the air. The weeping continued.

  Since crying was the only answer to her questions, Meagan decided to check things out for herself. Taking one step and then another, she stumbled when something strong held her ankle fast. Groping for the metal, she felt the bile rise in her throat. She was chained to the wall. What was this place? “Is anybody there?”

  A weak moan came from a nearby cot.

  “Will you tell me where I am?”

  “We don’t know.” The words, hollow and emotionless, drifted back.

  Her insides churned. More than the crying, this disturbed her. “You don’t have any ideas? The strained sound of her question lanced anxiety through her system. “Get a grip,” she whispered inwardly. She had to maintain control. “How long have you been here?”

  “We’ve been here for days.” The soft crying punctuated the words.

  We’ve been here for days. That meant there was more than one person there with her. She was chained and a prisoner like the others. “Tell me how many there are of you.”

  “Twelve, thirteen counting you.”

  “Okay, twelve.” Meagan swallowed hard, trying desperately not to include herself in that head count. She was not a prisoner. She was a survivor. She would not be a prisoner again. “Tell me your name.”

  “Sunny.”

  “Sunny, I’m going to get us out of here.” Meagan searched the dim confines of the room with a keen eye. “There has to be a way out of here.”

  “There is no way out.” The dejected sadness reverberated through the words.

  “Who said that?”

  “Nicole.” The girl sniffed quietly. “Don’t you think we’ve tried?”

  Meagan’s lips firmed over the despondent question. “Yes, but I’ve got backup.” With a short burst of positivity, Meagan tried again. “Come on, tell me the routine around here. There are guards right? Well, where there are guards, there’s a chance.”

  “They’re huge,” Nicole voiced. “There’s no way we can take down a guard.” The laugh was short and brittle. “We’re all chained, or have you forgotten?”

  “Come on. You don’t have to do it alone. We’ve got skills, don’
t we? After all, we’re still alive, aren’t we?” Meagan zeroed in on a pair of hunched shoulders of the silhouette she could almost make out in a damp corner of the long, dank room. “One thing I’ve learned is you never say ‘never,’ and you never give up.” Standing to her full height, she continued. “Now, who’s got Bobbie-pins or slender picks in their hair?

  One of the girls stood up, her chains rattling. “I do.”

  “Pass them down.” Meagan motioned the others to help her by handing down the small metal hair pieces. “When the guards come, I want you two to create a distraction for me while I work the lock. Okay?”

  A few soft nods were seen in the shadows.

  Nicole spoke quietly from her perch on the edge of a ratty cot. “They’ll bring the meal soon.”

  “All right. When the guard brings the meal, we’ll pounce. Our code phrase is going to be a question. Is our food here? When you hear that, start fighting. I mean cat fighting. Biting and pulling hair. Okay?”

  “Okay,” One of the girls said from the darkness.

  Meagan palmed the syringe she had taken from Katie’s. The truth serum was her only hope.

  ***

  Dorran cursed low under his breath. A fog had rolled in from nowhere. It coated the road so that he could see only a few feet in front of his bike. Something wasn’t right. He decided to call J.T.

  J.T.’s voice in his ear sounded like a lifeline. “Hey, you okay? Everything okay?”

  “I’m okay. This damn fog though. I’m headed to the drop-off now. She’s ahead of me with the package.” Code was his usual style of communication with J.T. – a throwback from his days as a communications operative in the sandbox. “My ETA is about six minutes. Copy.”

  “Copy. We’ll see you there. This damn fog is a brut. You managing fine?”

  “Yeah. It’s like pea-soup out here though. I’m taking my time.”

  “Okay, see you there.”

  As J.T. hung up, Dorran’s phone rang again. “Hello?” This time the sound of heavy breathing was all he heard. “Hello? Who is this?”